I Promised You Forever
by vivalaresistance24601
Summary: Papa Ge has taken Ti Moune to his realm, a fulfillment of their bargain. But there is still much to be settled. The other gods want to turn Ti Moune into a tree. Papa Ge simply won't have that. But why? What happens now? Will Papa Ge be able to come to terms with his past and his feelings for Ti Moune? Alternate Ending to Once On This Island.
1. Chapter 1: The Road Leading to No Return

**Author's note: So I recently discovered Once On This Island and I absolutely adore this musical. I feel it is vastly under-appreciated, so its only fitting to create a fan-fiction to shed some light on it. So TA-DA! This is my very first fan-fiction ever. EVER. I hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

As Daniel passed her by, doing an excellent job of rejecting her, she felt a horrible pain in her chest. It was as if her heart had shattered like glass. Ti Moune sobbed weakly, her emaciated form trembling. The coin fell from her hand and she watched bitterly, helplessly, as the world began to grow dim.

Suddenly she saw the thin and shadowed face she'd grown accustomed to. Papa Ge. She opened her mouth to speak, hot tears streaming down her face, but the god put a gloved finger to her lips, shaking his head. She studied his features with the last of her strength.

He no longer wore the grotesque war paint he'd displayed when they'd first encountered one another. She noticed his smooth, chocolate-colored skin, and for the first time noted how darkly beautiful he was. His attire was formal; he wore a dark black suit with blood-red hues infused into the fabric. His gloves were a pearly white. His eyes were mesmerizing; a strange gray color. Normally his eyes were dark, wrathful even but this time? They seemed almost calming.

He reached forward, leaning in. His hand cradled her cheek thoughtfully. Ti Moune looked up at him. _What was he doing?_ Before she could ask, he leaned in and kissed her softly. Her eyes fluttered shut. She felt strangely calm. Normally she was petrified by the sight of Papa Ge, but now she felt herself melting into him.

Suddenly she felt light. Detached somehow from the pain that had haunted her for weeks. When she broke away, she looked down and saw with a start, herself. Her dead body. Ti Moune gazed at herself, or rather, the hollow shell of her former self. Her cheeks had sunken in from starvation. Dark circles framed her dim eyes. Emaciated. Fragile. Broken beyond repair. _All of this because of a boy_ she thought quietly. A voice abruptly interrupted her internal soliloquy.

"That wasn't romantic in the least, you know. People say 'kiss of death' for a reason. Just thought I'd inform you. " Papa Ge stated matter o factly.

Ti Moune nodded absent-mindedly. "Right. Of course."

"Come along then." He said briskly.

And with that he turned sharply on his heels and began making long, quick strides away from the scene. Ti Moune paused only for a moment to look at Daniel. Shaking her head, she scrambled to follow Papa Ge.

* * *

Papa Ge led the peasant girl to a relatively deserted beach on the island. He stole a glance at her. She really was beautiful. And the way she gaped at everything in awe, her brown eyes wide with wonder? It was slightly charming.

Ridiculous. She was a peasant. An insignificant peasant. Simply another soul he had to lead from life to eternity. He pushed any foolish thoughts from his head and forced himself to get back into the routine of things.

He pointed across the water into the mist.

"That's where we're headed."

The girl shook her head. "But there's nothing—"

"Are you HONESTLY going to question the authority and knowledge of a GOD? A god who is CENTURIES older than you no doubt?" he exhaled impatiently.

That shut her up. Her naïvety was too damn cute. Ugh, again with the ridiculous, frivolous thoughts? He thrust them from his mind.

He made a sweeping gesture with one of his arms. The mist reassembled to form a ghostly bridge. Papa Ge methodically began to cross. Sensing an absence a few feet onto the bridge, he whirled around to see Ti Moune staring longingly at the island.

He cleared his throat. "Come along" he urged gruffly yet quietly.

He seemed to be struggling. He wanted to be DONE with this seemingly arduous task, he knew he would need to be firm. Yet something inside him made him weak. He wanted to almost comfort the girl. This was a stark contrast in comparison to a few months ago, where he'd dragged screaming souls across the bridge, cackling for dramatic effect.

When she didn't come he made up his mind to be firm. He strode over to her and grabbed her hand and firmly proceeded to lead her across the bridge.

"You made a promise Ti Moune. Now it's time to pay your dues. Your life is forever mine." He said flatly.

She sighed shakily. "And I am yours. "


	2. Chapter 2: Distant Shores

**Author's Note: I must say, I thoroughly enjoy doing this. =) So imma continue with this and finish it (although I haven't decided on the ending yet. Oh well. ) Lets see where this goes. All we know as of now is that Papa Ge is taking Ti Moune to his realm. What will happen? What sort of madness will ensue? Lets find out, shall we?**

* * *

They arrived on an island that seemingly appeared out of thin air. It was ominous looking; a vast, gray castle looming up from the rocky shore dominated the scene. The rest of the island was a thick jungle of tangled trees. Ti Moune exhaled shakily, thoroughly overwhelmed. She had no idea what her fate would be beyond this point. If only this all were a dream, if only she'd wake up in her small house, safe and healthy and free. But this was her new reality. What torment could lie ahead?

Papa Ge led her off the bridge silently and she watched it immediately disintegrate behind her. Far off in the distance she saw her homeland. Ti Moune felt the knot in her chest grow tighter. The pressure was suffocating. She wanted so desperately to go back-

Papa Ge dragged her along, his patience blatantly growing thin. They came to the great iron doors of the castle. Papa Ge pulled out a key attatched to a string around his neck and slid it into the lock. The iron doors groaned as they crept open eerily. A dark hallway lay ahead, lit only by torches that rested in decorative sconces along the walls. A grand staircase with a red carpet lay to their left. Above, a glimmering chandelier swung silently. Everything was beautiful, yet the atmosphere seemed to harbour a melancholy secret of sorts. He ushered Ti Moune inside with an irritated sigh.

"For the time being, you'll remain here with me in the castle. Normally you'd go either to the forest or the beaches, but these circumstances aren't ordinary. When the gods decide your fate you'll act accordingly." Papa Ge said blandly.

Questions churned in Ti Moune's conscience. "What are-"

He put up a gloved hand quickly. "No more questions. You exhaust me. Up the stairs on your left you'll find your room. That is all."

With that he turned and stalked down the hallway. Ti Moune watched him go pensively and eventually went up to her room, shaken.

* * *

Papa Ge burst into his study simultaneously ripping off his jacket and tie. He threw them carelessly to the side and began to yank off his gloves. He kicked the black throne in the center of the room. It hurt like hell but he didn't care. He was beyond caring at all about himself. He was so sick of this perpetual torture.

He went over to the large book-case and ripped volumes off, sometimes stopping only to pull out sections of the books. The yellowed pages fell about him like confetti as his rampage built to a crescendo. Papa Ge grabbed a vase from the shelf and swung with a strangled scream. It connected with the wall and shattered. He stared at the wreckage, breathing hard and fast, his chest rising and falling. Eventually he sank to the floor, exhausted, and hung his head in his hands.

_Why is this getting to me? She's just a foolish girl. I'm only doing my duty. _Thoughts raced through his mind as he ran a hand through his hair. He sighed. He always tried to keep up the death god façade, always pretending to enjoy his powers and dominion. It was exhausting. But he tolerated it. Pretended to enjoy it even. Until now.

What did it matter anyway? She was just an insignificant peasant girl. Right?

He had to admit he admired her bravery. Throughout his entire existence as a death god he'd never encountered anyone like Ti Moune. Sure, people made selfish deals with him to try to avoid their own fates. Some would even betray their fellow man to save their own hides. Papa Ge never minded taking their souls. They deserved to wander in the jungle honestly.

Bu Ti Moune wasn't selfish. In fact, she was one of the most _selfless _people he'd met. She sold her soul in order to save some rich boy's life. Some stuck up jerk probably, and she'd given up her life, her future, just to save his. His future would probably be filled with every luxury and happiness. Not exactly a fair trade.

That jerk had also broken her heart on top of everything. Out of masked sympathy, Papa Ge had offered that Ti Moune could keep her soul if she killed the rich kid. But she didn't. Why? The answer was beyond him, but nothing seemed fair. He remembered how he had tasted bile in his mouth as he watched Ti Moune slowly starve alongside the gates. _How could an innocent girl end up like that? And Erzulie raved about love. Love? What could be so wonderful about something that could destroy so mercilessly? _

He glanced down at his hands. A few shards of the vase stuck out of his palms, surrounded by a steady trickle of blood. Although his mind registered the wound, he felt detached from himself and thus was beyond caring. He got up slowly, kicked absent-mindedly at the shards on the floor, and walked out of the room to bandage his hands.

_Time to clean yourself up you idiot. _He thought tiredly. _Get her out of your head._


	3. Chapter 3: Nobody Wants To Learn

**The plot thickens even more...with a dramatic reveal about Papa Ge's past...DUNDUNDUUUUUUUUUN (dramatic theme music, just fyi). Enjoy! **

* * *

Ti Moune woke up with a start. _Oh gods...It hadn't been a dream_. She inhaled sharply, gazing at her new room. She really was dead. She'd hoped she'd wake up with her family in their humble home. Yet this was her new reality. Without bothering to examine her sleeping quarters, she slipped out of the large, luxurious bed and tip-toed out into the unknown.

She wandered down the hall aimlessly. What did the dead do to pass the time? Death was eternal after all. She set her mind to exploring the castle; perhaps she could discover what beautifully dark secrets lay shrouded in its walls. The shadowy stone walls seemed to be holding their breath, anticipating something. What? She couldn't define it. She intended to find out.

A majority of the doors she tested were locked, which was discouraging. She was about to give up when an old brass door knob turned with her hand. Ti Moune paused momentarily with surprise, took a deep breath, and opened the door. The heavy door whined softly as she gazed upon the scene before her.

The room was inundated with a huge assortment of objects. There was practically a labyrinth before her. Vast stacks of yellowed books towered precariously over her, threatening to scrape the ceiling with their sheer height. Tables were adorned with sketches, rusted tools and machines, pots, volumes of forgotten lore, toys, knickknacks, eye glasses, antique cameras, articles of clothing, and various other items. Her curiosity for life could be satisfied in this room.

She wandered around with the fascination and excitement of a child who discovers wrapped bundles on Christmas morning. She thumbed through thick books, her eyes hungrily scanning their pages. A large, gaudy hat caught her eye, which she quickly donned. She glanced in a jaded, cracked mirror, and burst out laughing. Removing the hat, she found a pair of opera glasses. Peering through them with awe, she noticed something on a table far off. She set the glasses down and clambered her way over towards it. She had to duck under overhanging lanterns and tapestries and even vaulted herself over a various obstacles (a bed frame, three unopened cardboard boxes and a dresser). Finally she came to the table which seemed to be designated as a tinkering table where she found what had caught her attention earlier.

It was a delicate music box with intricate carvings. Two figurines, a man and a woman, were positioned atop the set, dressed in fine attire and poised to dance. They gazed passionately into one another's eyes. She sighed shakily, remembering the dancing at the ball. Daniel. How wonderful things had seemed...before she had to face the harsh reality, the humiliation, the rejection...Ti Moune's finger's gently twisted the lever, expecting music to play and the figures to dance gracefully, but instead the piece fell off in her hand. Her eyes widened in horror. Maybe she could fix-

"Splendid. You broke it." a voice loomed from behind her.

Ti Moune whirled around with a start to see Papa Ge leaning slyly against a bookshelf. How long had he been there?

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

He waved away her apology. "I was kidding. It was like that. I came to fix it today anyhow." He paused, his eyes examining her. She shifted slightly, suddenly self-conscious. He cleared his throat and continued.

"It's nice to see you're finally awake...after three days"

Ti Moune's eyes widened with shock. "Three days? I was asleep for three days?"

"I did JUST say that.."

She shook her head. "Weren't you worried that I was-"

"You're already dead Ti Moune. Nothing else can happen to you now." he stated bitterly. Despite his harsh tone, Ti Moune noticed that the god was not annoyed with her. Rather, he seemed irked by his own statement. His jaw tightened as he glared at some unknown point in the distance. Out of bravery, she changed the subject.

"What is all of this?"

"This room you mean?" he said calmly "It's a room of the dead."

Ti Moune cocked her head to the side, intrigued. "What do you mean?"

Papa Ge smiled ever so slightly. "People aren't the only things that die. Objects are lost, forgotten, destroyed. But the memories they harbored once gave them life. When that life expires, when they have served their purpose, they end up in my castle. I salvage them. Humanity has such a gift to create, yet look at all it abandons." he gestured with his hand. "In here are books that hold ideas of philosophers long forgotten, of thoughts now neglected. There are tools that once held great importance but have since lost their practicality with changing times. Styles fade and resurface here. Art resurrects itself here."

Ti Moune cut in gingerly. "It's beautiful, in a melancholy sort of way."

Her sudden interruption derailed Papa Ge's thoughts. He looked at her with a sort of realisation. He gazed at Ti Moune strangely, as if her were seeing her fully for the first time. Finally he spoke, softly, the smile lingering on his dark face.

"...Yes. It is. " He tapped his cane against the ground with sudden authority. "Come. I'll show you a bit more of the castle."

Ti Moune followed the god quietly out of the maze of old finery. The way he'd raved about the room's riches-she saw a bit of herself in him. She'd finally met someone who shared in her fascination of the simplest of things. She shoved the exciting thoughts from her mind. To compare herself with a god was ridiculous. She was a peasant, a mere mortal. Papa Ge was all-powerful, mysterious...they couldn't possibly have anything in common.

They eventually came to a plain sitting area. Two chairs sat almost uselessly in the gray, stone-walled room. Ti Moune glanced at the god. There was so much she longed to know. Realising, there was nothing else to pass the eternity that lay ahead, she decided to find out.

* * *

She sat down, gazing intently at his face. With kindness. It was so strange; he wasn't accustomed to being treated like this. He was the Demon of Death. And unsurprisingly no human wished to die. Therefore, he hadn't experienced compassion in any way, shape, or form in centuries. Ti Moune's attentiveness, her sudden inability to be repulsed by him, her outright KINDNESS…it unnerved him.

"What are you staring at?" he snapped.

She flinched slightly but quickly regained her composure.

"I'd like to know about you."

"Ridiculous. I'm a Demon of Death. That's all the explanation you need"

She smiled and placed her small hands on her hips. In a tone similar to his, she spoke. "Ridiculous. You must have some sort of past. Or interests. Something."

This girl! What sort of preposterous request was that? No one—no one cared. So he'd thought. Not even Agwe, Asaka, or Erzulie had bothered to ask such a question when they'd first met. The gods only tolerated him. He'd never felt that they took an interest in him, let alone _liked _him. Now here was this girl, some peasant girl, some seemingly insignificant peasant girl, smiling kindly at him. It was daunting…yet intriguing.

He paused hesitantly. He adjusted his cane thoughtfully and leaned against the wall.

"You really wanna know?"

"Well you know just about everything about me. You spared me when I was a child, and like it or not you've become familiar with me. It's only fair if I know more about you."

Papa Ge laughed out loud. Not his usual laugh used to intimidate mortals. But his genuine laugh, one he hadn't used in centuries. He calmed himself quickly, smiling still slightly.

"You ask strange questions. Most mortals fear me. You did too once. And now you want to know about me? Not of my ability, but me?"

Ti Moune nodded, staring up at him. He cleared his throat.

"Well, I wasn't always like this.."

The memories came flooding back.

* * *

_Ezekiel and Damon raced through the trees, laughing and screaming at the top of their lungs, spears in their hands and paint smeared haphazardly on their faces. They eventually came to a large tree on the edge of the island. Beyond that lay the ocean. At the top of the tree was a large cluster of coconuts. Damon raised his spear, ready to shoot, until he saw Ezekiel shimmying up the tree._

_"Idiot!" Damon called affectionately. "I wanted to practice my aim."_

_"Oh please, we'd be here all week before you even got close. " Ezekiel yelled, smirking._

_The fruit was just out of his reach. Ezekiel positioned himself, ready to pounce. He wobbled a bit, considering he had limited space on the tree._

_"Don't die." Damon called up._

_"Thanks for the tip." Ezekiel muttered. With that, he leapt, and successfully swiped the fruit. He tumbled to the ground, rolling down the beach, gaining momentum until he finally slowed to a stop. He was very still._

_Damon ran over, worry apparent on his face. "Ezekiel? Ezekiel?"_

_He didn't move._

_Damon knelt. Desperately, he slapped his brothers face. "Come on, Ezekiel. Ezekiel!"_

_Ezekiel's eyes fluttered open. "…Gotcha" he croaked._

_Damon thrust some sand into his brother's face and pried a coconut out of Ezekiel's hands, Ezekiel laughing despite the sand in his mouth and eyes. Soon the two were friends again. They went over to a large rock and eventually managed to split open their spoils. They feasted ravenously, gazing at the endlessly rolling waves._

_"Let's go swimming!" Ezekiel declared, suddenly standing, remaining coconut juice dribbling down his chin._

_Damon shook his head. "Tonton said we needed to hunt. "_

_"And we will. After a brief swim."_

_Damon moaned. He knew he couldn't say no to his brother. "Fine." And with that, Ezekiel was sprinting down the beach towards large rocks. Damon bolted after him, abandoning their food and spears._

_Poised, Ezekiel mounted the largest rock. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and launched himself into the ocean. He dove down, further and further, scaring schools of fish with glee and observing the colorful scenes below him. Eventually he surfaced for air, only to be pushed back down by his brother. When he resurfaced, he made sure to splash his brother directly in the face._

_Soon their competitive nature took hold and it became a splash contest. Ezekiel soon resorted to spitting water directly in Damon's face. Damon shrieked, both hysterical and horrified._

_When that got boring they decided to practice diving. They grew more and more daring, Ezekiel even attempting a back-flip. Damon decided to try to replicate his brother's moves. He mounted the rocks. Jumped. But things went horribly wrong. On his decent, Damon's head slammed against a boulder. A sickening crack resounded as Damon fell, screeching in pain, into the sea._

_Horrified, Ezekiel dove off of his perch and began searching desperately for his brother._

_"Damon! Damon!" His voice grew shriller, rising in pitch and disparity. He finally noticed a crumpled figure on the ocean floor and dove down. He scooped up his brother and fought desperately for the surface. By the time he reached it, he was exhausted. Damon coughed, water erupting from his mouth. It was then when Ezekiel noticed the large gash on his brother's forehead. He swore, feeling worry rising in his chest._

_"Oh gods-You're gonna be fine I promise. But I need you to do some work here, I can't swim for the both of us. Come on! Swim!" Ezekiel yelled._

_Between coughing fits and sobs Damon whimpered "I can't-I can't-move-my legs!"_

_"Don't joke around! Come on! Swim!"_

_"I CAN'T!" Damon screamed._

_And finally Ezekiel realised that his brother wasn't faking an injury. Even though he was petrified, he knew he needed to save them both, before the sea overwhelmed them. He position his brother's arms around his neck, so Damon was riding almost piggyback, and tried his best to sound calm and collected. "You'll be fine, I've got you. Hang on-"_

_He fought desperately against the waves. The ocean that had only moments ago teased and gently welcomed them now seemed a deadly place to be. He noticed with horror that the tide was rolling in. The water rose with rapid speed, submerging his head at times, urging him to give up and just accept his fate. But by some miracle he managed to make it to shore. He thrust Damon onto the sand as gently as he could, but Damon nevertheless moaned in pain. Ezekiel felt disoriented, exhausted. His muscles ached. His lungs felt as if they were on fire, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His heart hammered in his chest and he could feel his pulse pounding in his head. He felt dizzy, and wanted nothing more than to lie on the sand and rest. But this wasn't about him. He had to help his brother._

_He examined the wound. It was worse than he'd first perceived it to be. A steady and persistent stream of blood gushed from Damon's head, trickling onto the golden sand. For once, Ezekiel was at a loss. His mind was racing, his heart rate hammering even more rapidly, yet nothing. This was the time to step up! He had to save Damon! But no ideas came. Everything seemed useless. Right when he was about to speak, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. It touched Damon's hand lightly, and simultaneously Damon stopped screaming. He stopped crying. He was still. Eerily still._

_Ezekiel whirled around and saw a thin man adorned in ebony finery. He knew immediately that this had to be Papa Ge. The god smiled at him with a wide, ghoulish grin._

_"Give him back." Ezekiel said evenly._

_Papa Ge chuckled. "It was his time."_

_Ezekiel scrambled to his feet, his hands clenching into fists. "No-NO!" Give him back!"_

_"Fool! He is gone! His soul is coming with me! Now leave or I'll take you with me."_

_Something snapped in Ezekiel's heart. He snatched up his spear and tackled the god. The rolled about on the sand, struggling to kill one another. Finally, Ezekiel got the upper hand and managed to thrust his spear deep into it's chest. Papa Ge shrieked, a sound unlike anything on earth, and there was an eruption of foul black smoke and scorching heat. Ezekiel was thrust backward. He watched in horror as the creature shriveled and eventually left no trace. He didn't understand. Weren't gods immortal?_

_Papa Ge was gone but a cloud of ominous black mist remained swirling mid-air. It crept silently towards Ezekiel. He backed away, petrified, but the mist continued to advance. Ezekiel was about to run but the mist suddenly absorbed him. _

_A burning sensation spread throughout his whole body as the smoke swirled around him. He opened his mouth to scream, but the sound was quickly drowned out as the smoke slithered down his throat with an acrid taste. He felt it flow to each portion of his body from the inside; it was sickening. He felt as if he was expanding, that at any moment his skin would split violently apart and then the mist would totally consume him. He felt his vertebrae contorting in agony, his bones re-forming into...something. Any control he'd had over his body was gone. The mist now propelled him into the open air and spun him, faster, faster now as his body was made into a new form. There was a wailing, piercing cacophony screeching in his ears, his eyes snapped open by some invisible force and a heat radiated from them. _

_Suddenly he was on the ground again, lying in a crumbled heap next to his brother's corpse. Damon was gone. Yet so was Ezekiel. _

* * *

Ti Moune's face displayed a mixture of sorrow, confusion, and horror. Finally she spoke softly.

"You-you were the little boy."

He nodded at her. "I killed a god...to try and save him. But the universe needs balance. So I was claimed. I was made into Papa Ge, sly demon of death." he finished bitterly. How he hated the title. His voice was hollow. He swallowed and prayed that his expression was blank. The peasant girl was NEVER to see him in pain, he decided.

After a silence she spoke again. "I thought the gods were immortal"

Typical Ti Moune and her constant questioning.

"Usually yes," he stated matter o factly, "but every 700 years there is one day when they are vulnerable. Just my luck, I suppose."

Ti Moune shook her head, her eyes glistening with tears. "I'm so sorry-"

Papa Ge felt a twinge of something inside his chest. He couldn't name it...but he decided to destroy such a feeling. It made him feel weak. Inferior. Vulnerable. It was simply unacceptable! Suddenly, he felt himself methodically snap back into his old, arrogant self.

"I don't want your pity, peasant! Now get out of my sight!" he roared, feeling his eyes flash.

She screamed and ran from the room. He watched her go, yelling awful things to her, until she vanished from view. At last he crumpled to the floor, the pain demanding to be felt. Like a wave washing over the sand, it overwhelmed him, slowly, rhythmically, with increasing intensity. Hot tears escaped from the corners of his eyes. The expanse of years hadn't eased the pain of the incident. No; the wound still felt fresh. He'd ignored it for so long but nevertheless it had always been there. It would always be there. For all of eternity.

He blinked suddenly. Stopping momentarily. He'd made her cry. Scream. Run from him in fear. For a moment he considered apologising. No. He couldn't. It was better this way.

He decided to carry his burden all alone, as he had for centuries. There was no point in hurting a girl who had already been so wounded herself. _Let her hate you. Let her despise you, let her be disgusted by the very thought of you. You should only be a memory later on. _He nodded to himself. A memory. Nothing more.


	4. Chapter 4: How It Must Feel

**So I haven't really touched this story in quite sometime...I know what happens in the future, I just need a transitional scene to get to the main action...hmmmm...DARN WRITERS BLOCK. I promise I'll get to this...after finals for sure, I'll finish this story. Maybe then I can focus on developing a creative flow instead of on AP testing**

* * *

It had been a week since the incident, yet Papa Ge still hadn't spoken to Ti Moune. He'd only seen a glimpse of her as he'd glanced down a hallway. He had managed to remain absolutely silent as he watched her so she wouldn't notice. Hot, fat tears had rolled down her delicate cheeks as she stumbled helplessly down the corridors. For a split second Papa Ge had desperately wanted to catch up to Ti Moune and hold her in his arms, to apologize and confess how he-

He had silenced the ridiculous thoughts at the time and allowed her to slip away into the darkness. There was nothing to confess because he felt nothing for her. Right. Absolutely nothing.

Now Papa Ge sat on his throne with a book in hand, scowling at the pages. After twenty minutes he realised he'd been re-reading the same paragraph over and over and he threw the book aside, disgusted for some unknown reason. He tapped his fingers against the arm of the throne and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Despite his insistence that he felt absolutely nothing for the peasant girl, deep down Papa Ge felt guilty for alarming Ti Moune...what had she done anyway? She had shown compassion...That wasn't so bad in retrospect...Yet he'd acted so monstrously, so uncontrollably out of anger and pain...

Papa Ge exhaled and ran a hand through his hair. He looked up at the cracked mirror across the room. In the remaining shards of the mirror he regarded himself as if he were analysing the features of a stranger. Gray eyes. Chocolate colored skin. A thin, smooth face. He recognised the features, yet he had no idea as to who the man in the mirror was. Was he the sly demon of death? Was he the remnants of the boy on the beach?

Or was he evolving into something else again?

He had absolutely no idea. But he intended to find out. He stood and strode purposefully out of the room.

* * *

Ti Moune lay in her bed, staring apathetically at the ceiling. She shifted slightly under the thick, purple quilt and sighed. She'd been so stupid. So incredibly stupid! First, her whole delusional fantasy of Daniel, but now? She'd honestly thought she could befriend a god. A god!

But she couldn't deny that she had _felt _something for Papa Ge. Something she couldn't explain. While he had told his story she had felt a lump form in her throat. Papa Ge-Ezekial- had lost, experienced unbelievable pain. He hadn't always been the monster everyone believed him to be. Then again was he actually a monster now? Or did he act in such a manner because of his suffering?

Ti Moune turned onto her side, trying to dismiss the thoughts. But she couldn't break the constant questioning in her mind. Why did she keep comparing herself to a god? It was ridiculous and foolish of her...or was it? They really did have many things in common. They both shared a curiosity that simply couldn't be satisfied. They both had lost the things they loved and despite all their efforts to save it. The things they had loved had caused them to suffer. And both struggled to preserve their sanity in the strange world they lived in.

And then there was that kiss...no! Now that was just too absurd. Papa Ge had said himself that it wasn't romantic. Why would it be? It wouldn't...right? How come in the story the old Papa Ge hadn't kissed Damon to kill him. He just needed to touch him. Had Papa Ge-Ezekiel-lied to her? If it wasn't necessary to kiss her to kill her, why had Papa Ge done that?

A sudden knock on her door interrupted Ti Moune's reverie. She sat upright in her bed, suddenly aware of all of her imperfections. She was still in the dirty dress she wore in her living days as a peasant. Her hair was a mess and she was sure her face was a ghastly sight, especially her bloodshot eyes which were puffy from the constant crying. Nevertheless, she slowly crept towards the door, one fragile foot strategically moving in front of the other. Ti Moune paused at the door, trying to prepare what she'd say to Papa Ge. She exhaled and thrust open the door.

"Look I-" Ti Moune started but she stopped abruptly. Instead of seeing Papa Ge's darkly beautiful face, there was no one in the hallway. She glanced around and then noticed something at her feet. She reached down and picked it up. It was the music box.


End file.
